


In Which Papyrus Decides He Hates His Job

by RyftWyrd



Series: Noodlepocalypse [6]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Gen, Papyrus is a jerk until he isn't, Papyrus works as a debt collector, Papyrus's pov, Sans is just there, Underfell Papyrus, you have a debt but can't pay it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyftWyrd/pseuds/RyftWyrd
Summary: Papyrus loves his job. Until he meets you.Rated T for swearing.





	In Which Papyrus Decides He Hates His Job

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a drabble I made when I had the thought of UF!Papyrus being a debt collector as one of his first jobs on the surface.

Papyrus usually loves his job. The way people sob when he shouts over the phone. The way they tremble and cave when he shows up at their door. He never fails to get results and his bosses love him for it. 

Yes, Papyrus usually enjoys being a debt collector. But not today. Today he has just been informed that his first call with you has produced no results. Normally after the first call, the victim will at least attempt to pay off their debt. He’s only ever had to make house visits about ten times a year compared to thousands of first phone calls.

He knows which number you were, too. It’s not hard to guess when most people break down crying at the mere sound of his powerful voice. So he calls you again, determined to make you crack.

“Go away.” The tenth time that Papyrus calls you, you pick up instead of refusing the call. Papyrus grinds his teeth at your rude chilliness. 

“YOU HAVE A DEBT. PAY IT.” Papyrus cuts right to the point. “UNLESS YOU’D LIKE A VERY UNFRIENDLY VISIT.” 

“Fuck off.” Your voice is still just as icy cold as the first time he called you. 

“ONLY IF YOU HAND OVER THE MONEY!” Papyrus replies hotly. “I’M SICK OF HAVING TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOU GODDAMNED LAZY SLUGS!” The dial tone beeps against his skull; you- hung up- on him. Nobody hangs up on him. 

Papyrus particularly likes house visits. They usually involve the victim sniveling and cowering while he threatens to take away something valuable until they pay up. And that never fails to get results. But he has a feeling that you’re going to require a firmer hand. 

When he knocks at your door, you don’t answer. It’s a nice house, so Papyrus is sure you’re just being lazy by not paying. He knocks again and hears excited screeches and the patter of feet from inside. The door cracks open and three young children stare in shock at the scary skeleton. One runs screaming. Papyrus scowls at the remaining two. “FETCH YOUR PARENT. IMMEDIATELY.” The two kids back up and then turn and flee, leaving the door open. 

Papyrus steps inside and glares at the bare interior. The house looks as though it isn’t lived in, there’s no furniture, no decoration, nothing. A few toys lie scattered on the floor but that’s it. “Hands up.” Your cold voice says behind him. 

Papyrus turns around. You stand there in the doorway with a revolver in your hands, your finger resting along the barrel instead of on the trigger. “I WOULD NOT RECOMMEND THAT.” He says. His special attack floats beside him, whining as light gathers in its maw. You glare furiously but lower the gun. Papyrus flicks his fingers and the special attack snaps its jaws closed but doesn’t vanish. “THERE. NOW WE CAN TALK LIKE CIVILIZED PEOPLE.”

“Fuck you!” You snap. Papyrus lets his special attack approach and you freeze up, anger battling fear in your eyes. “I can’t pay.” You say, sullen now that your icy veneer has been cracked. 

“SUCH A NICE HOUSE.” Papyrus pats the wall, implying his threat in his eyes. Your throat bobs with the force of your gulp, your eyes blank with terrified shock.

“I- it’s not mine.” You admit quietly. “We just live here.” 

“SHAME. IF YOU HAVE NO COLLATERAL WHATSOEVER...” He waits for you to say you have something, anything, before he tells you that you’ll have to come with him to prison. 

“I can barely keep them fed.” You grind out. “Damn it, you fucking assholes have no clue what it’s like, trying to keep everyone alive day by day! I can’t pay right now. If I had a job, I could pay you, but I don’t! I- I have nothing.” 

Papyrus tries to ignore the growing pain in his chest. “I DO.” He growls, surprising himself. “WHY DO YOU THINK I TOOK THIS JOB?? I NEED TO KEEP MY DUMBASS BROTHER FED AND OUT OF TROUBLE. YOU HUMANS ARE SO LAZY AND UNGRATEFUL!” 

“I’m fucking trying!!” You shout, startling his special attack. Papyrus cuts off the building power with a snap. Tears run down your cheeks but he can’t be pleased by the sight. “I- I’m trying...” 

“FUCK. PACK YOUR THINGS AND GET OUT. ALL OF YOU. THIS IS NOT YOUR PROPERTY.” Papyrus snarls, having made up his mind. 

You nod once angrily and wipe the tears from your eyes with a vicious swipe. Then you call your three children- no, they must be your siblings. The ages aren’t right for them to be yours. The kids glare at Papyrus and one tries to hit his special attack, but it moves out of the way and growls. 

“GET IN THE CAR.” Papyrus tells you and you obey, putting on a cheerful face for your siblings and encouraging them despite the uncertain terror you have to be feeling. 

“Where are we going, Timmy?” One of the kids asks.

“I don’t know, little bear.” You tell them. “Just listen to Papyrus and everything will be okay.” 

Papyrus is confused for a moment until he remembers the name-tag on his chest. “YES, JUST LISTEN TO ME AND YOU ALL WILL BE FINE.” 

He should not be feeling whatever this is. He drives to his house and steps out, opening the car door for your siblings. “OUT. SANS!!” 

Sans pops up out of nowhere and grins lazily. “yeah, bro?” 

“GIVE THESE CHILDREN ROOMS AND MAKE THEM SANDWICHES.” Papyrus says, and you stare at him blankly, confused. He stops you when you start to step out of the car. “YOU’RE COMING WITH ME.” 

A resigned peace crosses your face. “Okay.” You say. Papyrus gets back in the car and starts driving. There’s silence for a while, but then, “Thanks,” you mutter. 

“D-DON’T THANK ME.” Papyrus replies, but the tightness in his chest loosens. 

You sigh and look away. “Sorry for being so rude to you.” And Papyrus isn’t sure why you’re apologizing, isn’t sure why you’re thanking him when he’s done nothing except yell at you and perform the bare minimum of fae etiquette: taking in children who can’t survive on their own. And then he remembers humans don’t even have that in their messed up ethical framework. 

“THERE IS NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THEM.” He reassures you, then slows to a stop at a red light.

You sniffle at his words, visibly trying to hold back tears. Papyrus curses under his breath and takes a left instead of going straight when the light turns green. “FUCK THIS. GODDAMNED ANNOYING HUMANS AND THEIR FUCKING BUREAUCRACY!” He swerves through an alley and almost hits a cat. “SHIT!! YOUR SPARKLY ICINESS AND LOVE OF YOUR SIBLINGS WILL NOT BEGUILE ME!! NO, SIRREE!! WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO FIND A JOB FOR YOU!!” 

“R-really?” You say tentatively. “You’re not gonna turn me in-“ 

“SILENCE, OR I WILL.” Papyrus snaps and you close your mouth with a snap. 

Papyrus realizes when you give him a soft uncertain smile that he hates his job. He decides to quit. Maybe he’ll become an architect and install spiky death puzzles in peoples’ homes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I realize this is not actually how debt collection works in America. BUT just pretend it's some other make-believe country where debt collectors are like police and can put you in jail. Cause I don't feel like changing it. Hope you enjoyed it :D


End file.
